


The Things Rob Hates About Quinn.

by TheOneWithTheBlue



Category: The Used
Genre: Forbidden Love, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Mormonism, Sad, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:32:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneWithTheBlue/pseuds/TheOneWithTheBlue
Summary: He hated the way Quinn showered with that girly fucking shower gel. And he hated that Quinn knew Rob loved it.





	The Things Rob Hates About Quinn.

This is about Mormon accountant Robert and his neighbour, Quinn Allman.  
*********  
The only thing Rob McCracken hated more than God was Quinn Allman.

He hated how Quinn would play his music too loud. 

("Do you mind keeping the noise down over there? My kids are trying to sleep."

"Dude, this /is/ quiet.")

He hated his obnoxious curiosity.

("You're McCracken, right? I'm your new neighbour; I looked up the name on your mailbox.")

Rob hated the voices through the bedroom wall their houses shared.

("Quinn! Fuck-ahhhhnnn, shit, Quinnnnnoohh God!"

The woman with the long nails again. She visited Quinn often, and was the only one of his 'guests' who stayed the morning after. Rob hated her the most.) 

He hated the cigarette smoke scent that cling to Quinn.

(Rob stepped outside and took in a breath of fresh air. He turned, thinking of the hot coffee brewed down the street in that little cafe he loved. Somebody knocked his shoulder walking by and he got a noseful of smoke and-

HisLaughHisVoiceTheCurlOfHisLipsTheBrushOfHisFingersTheAshFromTheCigaretteFallingFallingFallingTheLinesOfStressOnHisFaceTheWrinkleThatMeantHeWasHidingHisFear-

-Rob caught himself and took a breath. He pictured a trail of smoke made from memories behind him as he walked away.)

He hated the mischievous, cheeky energy that seemed to fill Quinn from top to bottom.

("C'mon, Rob, it'll be fun."

"Quinn, we can't just-"

"Why not?"

"You know why. The answer is no."

The hopeful excitement faded away into an all too familiar solemn acceptance. Rob yearned for that smile again.

"Just one hour. And we've gotta go all the way to the other side of Provo."

Rob wished he cared about the trouble they could get into but that smile made him forget, for a moment, to be afraid.)

Rob hated that Quinn never had his damn clothes on.

(The neighbour had been keeping him up all night with his music. Did the guy have to play it at midnight? Really?

Rob, adjusting his jacket, knocked firmly on the door, rehearsed words in his head. The door swung open.

"Allman, do you have any idea what time-" He stopped dead in his tracks. The speech was gone because there, right there, Quinn Allman was naked as a new born with only his guitar covering... Well... /That/.

"What's up, neighbour?"

"Uh..." Rob flushed red, blinked, and swiftly walked away to the sound of Quinn's laughter.)

Rob couldn't stand the open, honest heart Quinn had.

("Don't say that! Don't you ever, /ever/ say that to me again Quinn, or I swear-"

"Why the fuck shouldn't I? It's the truth, Rob, I fucking love-"

"I don't give a damn about the truth. Lie to me. Lie to me because if I hear that again, this is over!")

...or how quick he was to forgive.

("I didn't really mean-"

"I know."

"It's just... You can't say it out loud like that."

"I know, Rob. Are you coming in?"

"... Yeah." He stepped in and shut the door behind him, pulling his key from his pocket to lock it. Rob hated that Quinn trusted him with a spare key.

"Quinn, I... You know I do too. About you."

"I know.")

Rob hated that Quinn was so gentle and compassionate on the inside.

("Quinn, are you-are you crying?"

"No... Maybe. Fuck off."

"It was just a dumb bird, Quinn."

"I know that." His grip on the car key righted and he hurried to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Rob sighed, staring down at the crumpled form of the raven on the tarmac. "It flew into the window, Quinn, you couldn't have done anything."

Quinn didn't answer, gritting his teeth and turning to go back to the car.

Rob knew how this would end. Quinn would pretend he was fine, keep it in because he didn't have the words to explain his feelings, then wake up crying that night when his dreams turned against him. Rob hated himself for forcing Quinn's feelings into silence. He knew most of his nightmares were about Rob.

"Where you going, Quinn?"

"What?"

"Come back here. This guy deserves a funeral." )

Rob couldn't deny he hated Quinn's 'friends'.

(He huffed and dragged the bag along behind him, grumbling. Of he would forget to take the compost bag out back until he was about ready for bed.

Rob tossed it into the compost pile and wiped his hands off his pants, then turned around. 

The kitchen light was on next door, sliding glass doors not covered by curtains.

There stood Quinn leaning against the counter, hand fisted in the hair of the long-nail-woman as she swallowed his cock in plain view. 

"Honey, are you okay?" 

Rob yanked the curtains shut and waved away his wife's worries. 

"Fine, sweetie. Just tired."

He locked the door, switched on th faucet, and covered his mouth. In his mind he saw them in that room. Quinn's body in the light, the curve of his waist, his broad shoulders, the crown tattoo below his ribs.

By the time he finished, in Rob's mind, it was him in her place.)

Rob hated his body. Hated how it made him feel.

("-don't stop, ah God, don't stop-"

"Right there?"

"There, there, ahhhnnn Quinn-"

Rob hated the taste of him.

("Stay away from me, just-"

"Rob, you're freaking out-"

"Don't look at me, don't even think about me-"

"-what the fuck did I do? Please-"

Quinn put a hand on his shoulder, gentle, but Rob shook as though he had been burned and slapped Quinn across the face. 

He regretted it the moment the hit landed.

"Quinn? Oh, Lord, Quinn, I-I'm so sorry, I-"

Quinn said nothing. Shocked. Frozen.

Rob fell silent. Eventually their eyes met, wild and searching.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Why not?" Quinn's favourite question. Rob despised it.

"Because I want you to keep doing it. So you've gotta stop."

They could never remember who kissed who first.)

Rob hated the way Quinn made him laugh.

("Oh my-"

"-and it was all over the carpet, man, I almost died I swear!"

Neither could stop the riotous laughter bubbling out, sitting side by side as they fell into it.)

Rob hated Quinn for being himself. For being flawed in beautiful ways. For his rabbit front teeth and his guitar, his gentle touch and soft soul, hated how weak Quinn really was. How easy to break and play with. How safe Quinn made him feel. 

He hated Quinn for loving him, and hated himself for abusing it. Rob himself for twisting what could have been because he was too absorbed in his own fear and selfishness to accept it. Hated himself for every time he hurt Quinn, pushed him away knowing that no matter what Quinn never had the strength to stay away. 

He hated Quinn for staying when they fought, for holding on even though Rob killed him inside. He hated Quinn for faking that smile when Rob's wife fell pregnant. Rob hated Quinn, because he didn't know how else to handle that love. Rob hated Quinn because he loved him.

He hated Quinn for wanting him to be happy. For putting him first. For being so truly, honestly good, but so weak at the same time.

Rob hated himself for telling Quinn to let go and he hated Quinn for finally listening. When Quinn was gone, Rob hated his memory.

Rob hated Quinn because loving him meant accepting that he had ruined him.


End file.
